


A Wizards' Interlude

by GrumpyJenn



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005), Young Wizards - Diane Duane
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Crossover, Post-High Wizardry, Pre-Darillium
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 13:54:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3898780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpyJenn/pseuds/GrumpyJenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I noticed in rereading the Young Wizards series that there is a reference in High Wizardry to someone very like the Fifth Doctor. And so a story sprang into being.</p></blockquote>





	A Wizards' Interlude

It wasn’t the usual _cracksplat_ of air displacement a travel circle tended to, nor was it silent.

Instead there was a wheezing noise in Nita Callahan’s back yard, and a… _was_ it a 1950s Police Box from the U.K.?... faded into existence under Liused, the rowan tree. The tree sort of bent protectively over the box, and Nita sent Kit a quick thought.

(You’ve got to see this! Quietly.)

(On my way…)

And he was, popping in beside her, if _popping_ was the word when there was no sound involved.

(What is it, Neets? I… oh.) Kit began to circle the box, slowly, thinking at it, and letting Nita ‘hear’ him. (Aren’t you a pretty one,) his thoughts ran, (all golden-sparkly under the blue. And old, you’re a beautiful old lady, aren’t you?)

Nita heard something faintly, too faintly to make out, in the back of her mind. It was a feminine murmur, and a feeling of worry and love and loss, but that was all she got. She pieced it together from Kit’s side of the mental conversation.

(You’re looking for a Healer? Someone to help… you? I can try, but…)

More murmurs, urgently this time.

(Oh. I see.) Kit glanced at Nita. (Okay, open up then.)

The doors of the blue box opened, and Nita saw that inside there was a claudication of some kind, because it was much, much bigger in there than it – _she_ – had any right to be. At least not in the home space that Nita’d been aware of her whole life. Some sort of control room filled the box and beyond it, with what looked like corridors leading off into more otherspace.

She shared a long look with Kit, hearing a kind of echo of a sense that there was a wizard – or _someone_ – in need of help in there. But Kit seemed reluctant to tell her what was going on. (It’s what we do, Kit, we help.)

Kit shook his head. (It’s a little stranger than that, I think. Be careful.)

Nita held out her hand, Kit took it, and together they stepped into the blue box.

 

^~^

 

Nothing would ever be the same.

Because River would be gone soon, and the Doctor was so _lonely_.

He would see her one last time, three of her that night, and they’d go to the Towers.

Oh, he knew she’d see him again, when she’d sacrifice herself for the sake of four thousand people she’d never met and a few she had. But mostly for him, the Doctor, because she loved him.

And he hadn’t even known her.

The Doctor swung gently in the repair sling, tinkering with the controls under the console, and became eventually aware of another presence. No, wait. _Two_ other presences, but if the Old Girl had let them in they must be fairly harmless.

And he supposed that if she had brought him to them, he’d better be polite, even if he didn’t feel like any sort of interaction with anyone who wasn’t R—… well.

“Hello?”

It was a feminine voice, young and a bit scared, but a human heartbeat later there was a male one, still high with youth, joining it.

The Doctor sighed and hopped out of the sling, trudging up the steps to the console.

There were two small half-grown humans in his console room, but there was something strange about them. Ah! They weren’t looking about in awe; they only looked interested, as though an eleventh-dimensional  bigger-on-the-inside police box was an everyday occurrence. Surely they weren’t from his own future; he wouldn’t take companions this young, not since Susan, and… but one of them, the girl, was talking.

“We greet you,” she said simply, and he found himself smiling at them.

“And I you,” he said, and that was when their jaws dropped. The Doctor heard himself giggle a little.

“You speak English!”

“Oi! Of course I do. What did you expect? Raxacoricofallipatorian?” He took a closer look at the children; one of them looked vaguely familiar. “Have we met?” The Doctor said to the girl, “A few hundred years ago, at the Crossings? I… wait here.” He went to the console and punched a few buttons, bringing up a picture of… ah, that was it. Spinning around, he pointed both forefingers at the girl. “Wasn’t you, was it? An ancestor, perhaps, and...” He trailed off as the children looked at each other and laughed.

“Dairine,” they said in unison, and the girl continued. “She’s my sister, and if you helped her at the Crossings, sir, then we are in your debt. She was on Ordeal, you see.”

 _Ordeal?_ thought the Doctor, and flipped out his sonic screwdriver. “May I?” He gestured at them, and although they looked a little nervous, they both nodded.

 

^~^

 

Kit looked around him in fascination, although he kept one eye on the man waving some sort of electronic device at them. He was pretty confident he could take the guy if need be, and he had his antenna-wand with him, so he just said the first fifteen syllables of that one shield-spell, the one that seemed to work on almost anything, and prepared the last one in his mind in case it was needed.

It was hard to concentrate on the man, though, because his… claudication? (‘ _TARDIS: Time and Relative Dimension in Space_ ,’ he heard in the back of his mind…) His claudication was so interesting. Kit had known for a while that many things that were normally inanimate machinery were alive on some level, but _this_ …. she was _more_ than a living machine; she was a distinct personality, and probably smarter than he was. Maybe smarter than Dairine. And she loved the man (now muttering over whatever readings he’d gotten off his electronic wand) beyond reason; she would do anything in all of time and space for him.

And Kit got the distinct impression that she _had_.

“Right then,” the man said. “What can I do for you?” And he took Nita’s hand. She flinched as though she had had an electric shock but grasped his long fingers. The man paused, then shook her hand.

“For us? Nothing. I mean, unless you’re on errantry and you need our help, or…” Kit let the words trail off; he wondered whether this man was a wizard or what? Maybe he was one of the Powers That Be.

He was certainly strange enough.

The man murmured something that sounded like, “Where I need to be,” and smiled at them. Kit noticed that the smile did not reach his eyes, though, and when he glanced at Nita, he saw that she looked absolutely miserable.

(What’s wrong, Neets?) She started, but did not drop the man’s hand.

(He’s so _sad_ … broken and in pain and…)

(That’s why she – the ship? – brought him to us. To _you_. He’s not dangerous, is he?)

Kit got an impression of Nita shaking her head slowly, doubtfully. (Not to us. But he’s done some horrible things.)

“Erm,” the man said apologetically. “I can hear you. In here I can, anyway, while I’m touching. Right then. Let’s start over.” He released Nita’s hand. “Hello. I’m the Doctor. I’m here to help.” Giving them a little wave, he smiled slightly (it still didn’t show in his eyes) and rocked back on his heels to wait.

“Kit. Doctor _who_?”

“Just the Doctor.”

“I’m Nita,” Nita said. “I’m the healer. He’s the mechanic. He really likes the look of your… ship?”

The smile reached the Doctor’s eyes this time.

 

^~^

 

Nita liked him. He seemed nice. Sad, but nice. But there was something behind those shuttered hazel eyes beneath the almost nonexistent brows.

Something that spoke of pain and rage and guilt, of war and loss and love; the guilt was so strong it nearly overwhelmed the other emotions, even the pain.

Guilt for _what_?

What had he done that was so bad?

“Tell me about this Ordeal,” the Doctor invited. “I think I remember young Dairine; she’s the ginger girl, running from… yes, well, that was my, let’s see, the Fifth… I _think_ it was the Fifth, back when I was, well, young.” He looked at them expectantly.

He also looked about thirty at most, until you looked at his eyes, and yet he’d said it was hundreds of hears since he’d met Dari at the Crossings.

But those eyes. They were _ancient_.

The Lone Power sometimes looked that way, young and attractive, yet ancient and terribly, terribly sad. It had looked that way when they’d met It on their own Ordeal, she and Kit.

But _that_ Power had never, _ever_ felt the guilt that overshadowed everything this man did, said, felt. Nita could feel it. He wasn’t human, she’d gathered that much while gripping his hand, too many heartbeats and his body temperature was much cooler than hers. He wasn’t human, and as far as she could tell he wasn’t one of the Powers, but he was _life_ , and he was in distress, and…

And Nita _ached_ to help him. She held out her hand and he took it gravely. “Will you let me help you?” She asked it quietly, gently, because she suspected he would say no. “I can help ease the pain, and maybe more, if you…”

“You cannot.” His voice was equally gentle, and Nita felt his regret as though it were her own. She opened her mouth to assure him that she _could_ , she’d only have to take a little of the pain herself, but he shook his head at her. “You can’t. You’d have to know my name to do the thing properly, and I cannot – _will_ not – share that with anyone again. Not now. Maybe not ever. It h—“ He broke off, but Nita heard an echo of the intended words… _‘It hurts too much.’_

She also got a flash of _why_ it hurt him so much – an image of a woman with riotous curls, the words _always and completely_ , the sound of what she suddenly knew were called the Singing Towers – and she found herself close to tears. “I’m sorry,” Nita said around the lump in her throat, and the Doctor reached out and hauled her in for a hug.

“You _have_ helped, young Nita, just by offering to,” he said into her hair as he made a long arm and pulled Kit into the hug too. “Never doubt it. And you, Kit. The Old Girl needed someone to talk to, someone who isn’t… who doesn’t share her grief. For it _is_ grief, though it hasn’t happened yet, not for this me.  You children have helped us both.” He pushed gently on their shoulders until they broke the hug, so he could take a good look at them.

“Be well, Doctor,” Nita said, and Kit too.

“And you,” he returned, in the Speech. And then, in English, “I have to go. I’ve been promising her for ages.”

**Author's Note:**

> I noticed in rereading the Young Wizards series that there is a reference in High Wizardry to someone very like the Fifth Doctor. And so a story sprang into being.


End file.
